Things have been a little quiet online, and that's because it's been very busy in real life. Peter and I bought a home together. After 10 months of looking, we finally found somewhere that ticked as many boxes as possible, that we could afford. We offered a 30 day settlement, which now seems crazy. But I had a months leave from work already booked, and settlement would fall smack in the middle. So much for my month of seeing people, and running errands for myself. It all flew by in a busy swirl. And as always, it took a while for the internet to be reconnected. It's nice to have my desk set up again and a quiet space to sit and write. I don't miss our old noisy neighbours at all.
Peter and I have lived here for about three weeks now. Boy time flies. We've still got some boxes to sort out, but we're getting it together. My friend Kaz, who's out from England at the moment, visited and said how different I seem in the new house. She explained that when she saw me a couple of weeks before we moved, I was hunched in the shoulders. But now I seemed to have my shoulders back and head up to the world. I guess it shows how I felt. Our old rented flat was a great place for me to retreat to, after the break up. It was small, but cosy and had a great feel to it. It was where Peter and I really began. We had a space of our own and I could relax and recoup. I was happy to have a big security gate and traded outdoor space for cheaper rent and closeness to a tram, shops and work. But after a while, I so missed the extra space. As soon as the settlement money came through from my old life, I started trawling the real estate websites.
10 exhausting months later we found our home. It's still a two bedroom townhouse, but it has more space than our old flat and a small front and back courtyard. It's a converted workhouse in the old Pentridge Prison. We were sceptical about living on such notorious land, especially when the large bluestone wall is the boundary of our backyard! But the moment we stepped out of the car, the lane of townhouses has an incredibly lovely feel. It is a bizarre mix of old and new. Our building is about 130 years old and heritage listed, but inside is about 5 years old. It has lots of exposed brick and high ceilings. Somehow the quirky mix suits us. Feels like us. Even the loan adviser at the Credit Union, where we have our home loan, said it looked like the perfect place for us. Hilarious.
I have a bit more space to breathe and stretch out. We can have visitors and have it not seem crowded. And best of all it has a great kitchen. Peter and I have space to stand either side of the island and make dinner together. And I finally got to buy the wedding present my Mum & Dad had promised...a washing machine. No more spending weekends at the laundromat. It's funny how I used to take some of these simple pleasures for granted. But after cocooning for two years, it's time to emerge from the safe house, and into our new lives. It feels great, and there are some wonderful discoveries in our new Coburg hood. There is a cafe a short walk away, called Little Deer Tracks. It's a vego paradise with fabulous coffee. People smile as we pass them, as there are so many people living here, but somehow it doesn't feel crowded. We're both so happy as it feels like home.
There is something quite amazing that happens, when life turns a corner. New adventures and the joy that is found when change signifies hope. I am a tragic collector, verging on hoarding some things. I do find it hard to let go of some stuff. Objects, photos and ephemera all mean memories to me. But as we were moving endless boxes of stuff into the new place, I had a moment where I knew I'd reached a point of being able to let some things go. I'd left so much behind in the breakup, that perhaps I'd clung to what I had. But now life is heading somewhere new and exciting, with someone fabulous, that I need to make space for the life that is ahead. And that is quite a lovely feeling. I know I've mentioned this quote before, but Einstein said "life is like riding a bicycle. To keep your balance you must keep moving". Ironically, I feel I am moving forward by finding somewhere to lay down roots. To find a home, with my lovely man and have kittens who love the new space feels like a reward for some of the harder times over the last 2 1/2 years. And I don't think I'll be taking it for granted.
Peter and I have lived here for about three weeks now. Boy time flies. We've still got some boxes to sort out, but we're getting it together. My friend Kaz, who's out from England at the moment, visited and said how different I seem in the new house. She explained that when she saw me a couple of weeks before we moved, I was hunched in the shoulders. But now I seemed to have my shoulders back and head up to the world. I guess it shows how I felt. Our old rented flat was a great place for me to retreat to, after the break up. It was small, but cosy and had a great feel to it. It was where Peter and I really began. We had a space of our own and I could relax and recoup. I was happy to have a big security gate and traded outdoor space for cheaper rent and closeness to a tram, shops and work. But after a while, I so missed the extra space. As soon as the settlement money came through from my old life, I started trawling the real estate websites.
10 exhausting months later we found our home. It's still a two bedroom townhouse, but it has more space than our old flat and a small front and back courtyard. It's a converted workhouse in the old Pentridge Prison. We were sceptical about living on such notorious land, especially when the large bluestone wall is the boundary of our backyard! But the moment we stepped out of the car, the lane of townhouses has an incredibly lovely feel. It is a bizarre mix of old and new. Our building is about 130 years old and heritage listed, but inside is about 5 years old. It has lots of exposed brick and high ceilings. Somehow the quirky mix suits us. Feels like us. Even the loan adviser at the Credit Union, where we have our home loan, said it looked like the perfect place for us. Hilarious.
I have a bit more space to breathe and stretch out. We can have visitors and have it not seem crowded. And best of all it has a great kitchen. Peter and I have space to stand either side of the island and make dinner together. And I finally got to buy the wedding present my Mum & Dad had promised...a washing machine. No more spending weekends at the laundromat. It's funny how I used to take some of these simple pleasures for granted. But after cocooning for two years, it's time to emerge from the safe house, and into our new lives. It feels great, and there are some wonderful discoveries in our new Coburg hood. There is a cafe a short walk away, called Little Deer Tracks. It's a vego paradise with fabulous coffee. People smile as we pass them, as there are so many people living here, but somehow it doesn't feel crowded. We're both so happy as it feels like home.
There is something quite amazing that happens, when life turns a corner. New adventures and the joy that is found when change signifies hope. I am a tragic collector, verging on hoarding some things. I do find it hard to let go of some stuff. Objects, photos and ephemera all mean memories to me. But as we were moving endless boxes of stuff into the new place, I had a moment where I knew I'd reached a point of being able to let some things go. I'd left so much behind in the breakup, that perhaps I'd clung to what I had. But now life is heading somewhere new and exciting, with someone fabulous, that I need to make space for the life that is ahead. And that is quite a lovely feeling. I know I've mentioned this quote before, but Einstein said "life is like riding a bicycle. To keep your balance you must keep moving". Ironically, I feel I am moving forward by finding somewhere to lay down roots. To find a home, with my lovely man and have kittens who love the new space feels like a reward for some of the harder times over the last 2 1/2 years. And I don't think I'll be taking it for granted.
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